


Strings

by ohsebs



Category: bon jovi bed of roses, mayday parade three cheers for five years
Genre: Anger, Angst, Desire, Heartache, Lust, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsebs/pseuds/ohsebs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the end we're all just a bunch of knotted strings; holding together a heartbeat and brain. And soon you'll begin to realize that every single heartbreak you have just frays at each of your stings; and before you know it, those strings will snap, one by one. And you know what happens after that, right? Your brain will keep telling your heart that everything isn't okay, and with the strings becoming looser, you'll soon start to realize that the grip you once had isn't strong enough..."<br/>"And then what?"<br/>"Then your heart will try everything to hold itself together, but in the process, it will break itself; cut it's blood flow off with how hard it's trying to hold on... and you'll soon see it's easier to give up than to try."</p>
<p>Basically a small story about the dangers of heartache based on the songs: Bed of Roses-Bon Jovi and Three Cheers for Five Years by Mayday Parade</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings

Within the short expanse of life, you'll notice that you will come across many different types of pain and varied versions of your own miniature hells; you'll meet people that can either make life worth living, or the ones that make you wish to end it all.

and in-between the moments of uncertainty, the ones where you just can't pinpoint exactly what went wrong; or when you can't describe the crippling feelings of unaccountably, and unsettling hatred; you'll begin to feel something... something deep inside you. It starts small, a little gnawing feeling deep inside your chest, bringing only a bit of discomfort; something livable though. 

as you venture through more of your life, traveling through future memories, and nights filled with tears and anger; you'll find that the once tiny gnawing feeling has subsided; yet in it's place is something different... more distinct. A tiny scraping on the walls of your ribs, moving up and down, continuing at the same up, down, pause pace. It's annoying, yes, but still liveable.

next up, you'll find yourself yearning, waiting - always waiting - for something to happen, for someone to call; even though you know they won't. Even though, you know they're long gone, skin-to-skin with someone else, not thinking of you. And suddenly, you'll fall to your knees, and inside; inside is where it starts to get bad. Yes, the scraping has went away, but in its place is something nagging. A distinct feeling of a knife through your limbs... A desperate cry will sound from your lips; thoughts will scream and cry, as you will also. 

Painful, yes. Liveable, also yes.

Now, it's been a long time from then, slowly healing up the feeling of the knife; as you tread carefully into the next life of yours, you watch everything with a hawk's eye; careful to avoid any sort of trepidation to this new life. As things slowly fall back into place, you feel your grip tighten, reality becoming clearer. Then, you wake to find you're alone, a bottle of Whiskey perched on the nightstand, and a letter in their handwriting, the one you knew very well. Words scrawled haphazardly, explaining how "it didn't work," and "it's not you, it's me." And you'll once again feel a new pain. This one though, this one is much worse. You feel as if your world is smashing together, and grinding apart. You know that this is it... You're alone, there's nothing left to wait for. There's a stabbing pain in your chest, right over your heart, your lungs burn, and eyes are blurred. You scream and cry; and it's over. It's all your fault.

Painful, definitely. Liveable, just.

Years afterwords, you try once more. This is the final time, you convince yourself. You watch every movement, make sure everything is perfect, because without them you know; you know that what will be left of you won't be more than smashed glass and cigarettes. You find things normal; but panic, because normal is when things go wrong. You rile them up; start pointless fights; leave early in the morning and come back late in the night; this isn't how I intended it to be, you'll explain, as they hold your hair away from the toilet. They promise things will get back on track; and you believe them; you actually believe them; and for awhile it does - get back on track - until they veer to the left... because things are long past going right. Going to bars, picking up people, not knowing who is who; and you finally did it. You've broken them... you didn't intend on things going this way. You say that. Again they said, "It will be better... it could've been."

And you let them go... and that's what breaks you. You've become everything you said you wouldn't... these precautions worth nothing, the planning, waiting. You could've had everything, and threw it away because of pain.

You'll fall to your knees, scraping the pavement, pull your hair, scratch at your face, and wish it all away. Wish you could forget what you've done... and you'll get it. Because the pain becomes too great for the memories. The feeling of being torn apart as you watch their face break at the sight of you with someone else, in your shared bed; the feeling of stabbing as you realize they left you for someone better; the crippling feeling of gravity as you realize that they needed someone else when you weren't there, because you weren't enough. And soon, you'll feel everything fall apart.

You're all too soon about to realize that you've severed all our stings; because sure they were frayed before, but realizing what all happened, what you became, you took one final stab at yourself with that butterfly knife, and detached yourself from the last shred of humanity you had within you.  
You became that very monster, that had torn you up in the first place.

 

"In the end we're all just a bunch of knotted strings; holding together a heartbeat and brain. And soon you'll begin to realize that every single heartbreak you have just frays at each of your stings; and before you know it, those strings will snap, one by one. And you know what happens after that, right? Your brain will keep telling your heart that everything isn't okay, and with the strings becoming looser, you'll soon start to realize that the grip you once had isn't strong enough..."  
"And then what?"  
"Then your heart will try everything to hold itself together, but in the process, it will break itself; cut it's blood flow off with how hard it's trying to hold on... and you'll soon see it's easier to give up than to try."

**Author's Note:**

> in the end we're all the very monsters we've come to fear


End file.
